Tooth problems and MJ problems
by alltheSinnersandalltheSaints
Summary: Peter has a crush on MJ and his fangs are acting up.
1. Chapter 1

The evening had been slow during patrol. Only one attempted mugging, two bike thefts and one domestic dispute that was easily settled. Crime usually peaked during the Summer months but tonight had been oddly quiet. Peter wasn't complaining though. He saw plenty of action, between alien invasions, psycho villains and basic training exercises with his team.

"Anything on the police scanner Karen?" The teenage vigilante was perched on top of an old warehouse just a few blocks from his old apartment building.

"Nothing at the moment." His personal A.I chirped, voice smooth and comforting. "May I suggest y-"

A scream cut through the air and Peter was off. Using his heightened senses to pinpoint the screams he could pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. He swung three blocks down the street before making a sharp turn into a back alley.

Three younger women - who appeared to be in their mid twenties - were cornering another woman back against a dumpster. Upon closer inspection, Peter realized the woman about to be mugged was his old boss, Miss Marks.

"Hey, what's up?" Peter dropped down in front of the girls and effortlessly webbed them to the dirty brick wall behind them. "It's you." He webbed any weapons they had to the ground, the only thing remotely threatening was a two inch kitchen knife. Then, for good measure, he shot webbing over their mouths, effectively muting their high pitched squealing. "Get it, cause you're up there… on the…Just, never mind."

"Thank you."

Peter spun around to face Miss Marks, surprised she was still there. Usually the victim would run the first chance they got.

"Are you alright ma'am?" Gently, he pulled her to her feet and checked her for any possible injuries. He hadn't let the muggers get close, but it never hurt to check.

"I-I think I'm okay." She took a deep breath and ran a shaky hand through her mussed hair. "Yes. I'm alright." She smiled gratefully, "thanks to you Spider-Man."

Peter chuckled quietly. "It's absolutely no problem ma'am. Everyone should be able to return home safely."

"Well, with you watching over us," she gestured to the buildings around them and the New York citizens they contained, "we definitely will."

Once again, Peter was grateful to be wearing a mask. Besides protecting his identity and helping him with his heightened senses, the high tech fabric also hid the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"Thank you." He said sincerely. "That really means a lot. Recognition can be hard to get as a hero. We try our best… but people tend to remember the one thing you did wrong, not the hundreds of things you did right."

"That's very wise." Miss. Marks pursed her lips, cocking her head to the side. "You remind me of someone who used to work for me. Skinny, a tad shorter than average… very sweet. Had good manners too."

"Um… um, uh I don't know. I mean no ma'am I never worked at your restaurant."

"I never said I owned a restaurant."

If you couldn't see the smirk on her face, then you could hear it in her voice. Peter wanted to punch himself for being so stupid, mentally cursing himself for not webbing the criminals up then swinging away.

"I… please don't te-"

"I would never." Stating it as a fact, she pulled her savior into a tight hug. One she'd always longed to give the scrappy teen that brought in most of her customers and had a heart of pure gold. "Thank you, Peter," she mumbled into his shoulder, "you saved me."

"You don't gotta thank me Miss. Marks… er, I mean Patty."

She slung her purse higher on her shoulder, gave Peter a loving smile and continued her trek home. "Oh, and please give Mr. Stark my thanks. I couldn't afford to renovate that shabby old bar myself And I'm sure you put a good word in." She called over her shoulder, then turned the corner and was out of sight.

"Karen?" Peter mumbled to his A.I as he jumped from building to building, making sure his old boss got home safely. "How did she know I asked dad to write her a check? He didn't leave a letter or anything, did he?"

"There was no attached note or file. Only a check for five million dollars, addressed to Miss. Patty Louise Marks."

"Huh." He made sure she entered her apartment building safely before swinging away.

….

Around eleven, Peter began making his way home - swinging, and occasionally jumping from building to building. On any other night he'd be out until at least two in the morning but Tony had wanted him to return early. Peter hated missing or cutting patrols short; it was his duty to protect the people of Queens - and Manhattan now that he lived in the avengers tower. But tomorrow is the start of summer vacation, so he could easily make up for lost time.

"Peter, why are you headed back so early?" Karen's confused voice came through the mask of Peter's suit.

"Dad wanted me to meet him in the common room. Don't know why though."

Doing an elaborate flip - one that would've been a challenge even for the best gymnast - and landing in an alleyway he headed towards the avengers private entrance. Friday's security system was basically impenetrable, but as an extra precaution each avenger had to scan their handprints in order to enter.

"Usually I'd just take the elevator to my room, or climb the building and just go in through my window." Peter talked to Karen as the elevator ascended, trying to figure out for himself why his dad needed him back early. "Is it the MMO? Do you think I'm in trouble? Oh man… I don't think I did anything wrong." He began to pace back and forth within the confined space, his mind going through the worst case scenarios. "At least I don't remember doing anything, you know, uh bad."

"I can assure you Peter, that you've done nothing wrong." Friday's voice broke Peter from his thoughts. Releasing a startled yelp, he instinctively jumped and clung to the metal ceiling. The A.I chuckled, "I'm sorry to have scared you."

"It's okay Fri." The vigilante let himself fall back down to the floor, landing silently on the balls of his feet. He removed his mask and played with it absentmindedly. "Do you know what dad wants?"

"I do not." She sounded amused. "But you can ask him yourself in ten seconds."

True to her word, the elevator doors opened exactly ten seconds later. Tony, along with all the other avengers, was standing where the hall opened up into the kitchen. And they did not look happy.

"H-hi um…" Peter gulped, his heart rate going through the roof. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did I can guarantee you I didn't mean to. I don't think I did anything wrong but if I-"

"Kid." Tony could no longer keep a straight face. He stepped forward and pulled his son into a tight hug. "You did absolutely nothing wrong."

"Wh- wait." He peeked over his dad's shoulder at his aunt and uncles - who were now laughing. "Oh come on guys."

"Sorry kiddo." Clint ruffled Peter's curls and teased him. "Just wanted to give you a good scare."

"Jerk." The teen stuck his tongue out at the archer in a rare display of immaturity. "What're you guys doing up so late anyway?"

"You just finished your sophomore year and aced your finals!" Steve explained, voice filled with pride. "We're not surprised, with how smart you are, but we wanted to celebrate. You deserve it."

"Aw, thanks guys. That's super nice."

"Of course it's super nice." Scott rolled his eyes, putting great emphasis on the word super. "It because we're superheroes. Ha, get it. Because we-"

"We get it." Sam cut him off with a hand over his mouth. "You don't gotta- ew gross! Did you just lick my hand?" He pulled his hand away as if it'd been burned then wiped the saliva off his hand using Bucky's shirt as a towel.

"Sick! You little fu-"

"Alright let's eat." Steve quickly directed everyone's attention to the food spread out on the large kitchen island. Peter and Thor - having the biggest appetites out of anyone they'd ever met - needed no more convincing and promptly dug in.

Any possible argument dissipated at the sight of Peter laughing, spaghetti sauce splattered on the front of his suit, as Thor and Bruce fought over the rights to Bucky's special brownies.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh come on. Seriously!" Clint threw his hands up in exasperation. Rhodey and Bucky mirrored his frustration. Both whining to the God whose hammer sat atop the the TV remote. Thor just laughed.

Natasha sipped her morning coffee leisurely, her novel sitting on the ottoman at her feet. It had been a calm, relaxing morning; until the rest of the team woke up. "You know that the more you complain the more he enjoys it." She shot a glare to the archer as his whining grew more incessant.

"She's right you know." Tony sat down on the couch opposite Thor and the whining men. He left enough room for Peter to sit while keeping his distance from Loki. The god of mischief may have changed his ways, but that didn't mean he had to be friendly with him.

"Who's always right?" Peter asked, plopping down beside his dad, rubbing his tiredly.

Tony wrapped an arm across Peter's shoulders, instinctively pulling him against his side. He couldn't help but ruffle Peter's curls, his hair already fluffed up like a halo from a good night's sleep. A halo, Tony thought, how accurate.

"Your aunt." Tony placed a quick kiss to his sons forehead.

"Of course she is." Peter grinned at his aunt. "Как ты, мама паука?" (How're you momma spider?)

"Im штрафа мой ребенок паук. Как ваши дела." (I'm fine my baby spider. How are you?) She set her coffee aside in favor of fussing over her nephew, cooing softly at Peter's adorably mussed hair and sleepy expression.

"Im Хорошее." (I'm good.) He murmured, leaning into her touch. Ever the tactile one. "О чем они ныть? " (What are they whining about?) He nodded towards Clint, Bucky, Rhodey and now Bruce that were chastising Thor over the placement of his hammer.

"Они идиоты." (They're idiots) Tasha mumbled into Peter's curls, eliciting a small laugh from the boy.

"What's with you guys?" Peter looked to Tony.

"Thor's trolling them." Tony smirked, his amusement clear. "He put his hammer, milnora, or mojohn or whatever it's called on the tv remote."

"Why don't you guys just move it?" He asked innocently, only to be met with laughter.

"Quiet." Loki snapped, his posture tense as he addressed the men then. "Spider child." His voice softened completely while addressing Peter. A rare, genuine smile, reserved only for Peter gracing his lips. "Lift the hammer. I know you can."

A hush fell over the room as Peter stood and cautiously approached the hammer. His hand wavered just above the handle but he made no move to grab it. Tony nodded in encouragement, his calm demeanor masking how worried and curious he really was.

Carefully, afraid of accidentally breaking it, Peter grasped the handle - taking no notice to the darkening clouds outside - and pulled.

Thunder cracked across the sky and lightning danced through the clouds as he brought the hammer above his head. He cried out and quickly went to cover his ears - nearly knocking himself out in the process. But the storm vanished as quickly as it had come. Fluffy white clouds and sunny blue skies returning as the storm dissipated.

"What the fuck!" Bucky looked from Peter to the now crystal clear skies. "You all saw that right? Like, it wasn't just me?"

"No." Bruce nodded numbly, his shocked expression mirroring everyone else's. "I saw it too."

"This is a lot lighter than I thought it would be." He tossed the weapon from hand to hand, not fully aware of what 'being worthy of the power of Thor' entailed. Electricity sparked through him, purple tendrils of lightning arcing around his hands and onto the hammer. It didn't hurt, if anything it was invigorating.

Loki looked on with a knowing smile as the others gaped. Tony was the first to recover, a large grin splitting his face and pride swelling within his chest.

"My kid's worthy! Ha! You see that guys? My kid is worthy."

Peter looked confused. "Uh… what's that supposed to mean?"

"Of course. Of course you have no idea." Clint ran a hand through his hair, ginning. "You're just too pure kiddo."

"Huh?"

Thor knelt before Peter - who was even more confused now - and firmly grasped his shoulders. "Man of spiders and son of Stark." He said, unusually serious, "from the very first time we fought together I knew you were a powerful and noble warrior. Someone with a strong mind and a strong heart." He placed a large hand on Peter's chest. "So it comes as no surprise to me, that you would be worthy."

"Wow. Um… thanks uncle Thor." He smiled shyly, not knowing what to say. "That's-that's really nice. Thank you."

"You are worthy" Without any warning he hoisted the small teen onto his shoulders with a cry of joy and triumph. Peter squeaked indignantly as Thor took him for a ride. Jumping and twirling, all while shouting, "the man of spiders is worthy! You are worthy of the throne of Asgard!"

Soon everyone had joined in. Laughing and cheering for their youngest teammate and family member.

"Did you guys see that storm?" Steve asked, padding over to the group, his clothes dripping as he attempted to dry his hair with a dish towel he grabbed off the counter. "I was jogging then all of a sudden this thunderstorm just came out of nowhere and-" He looked up from his soaked joggers and saw Thor, mid-step with a giggling Peter on his shoulders. His teammates cackling happily. "Uh… what did I miss?"

"I'm worthy!" Peter cheered holding the hammer high above his head.

"Of course you are." Steve couldn't help but smile, that kid always lifted his spirits.

….

"Hey dad?"

Tony's chest warmed instantly at the word, dad. Hearing Peter call him that filled him with such love and warmth that he couldn't begin to describe or express with mere words. He knew he'd never get tired of hearing it.

"What's up kiddo?" He tossed his wrench down and set his new project aside, diverting all attention to his kid. "You okay?"

Peter was standing back at the entrance to Tony's personal lab. Normally, he'd just walk in - already knowing the code - and would settle into an individual project he was working on, something for S.I or assist Tony with whatever he happened to be tinkering on.

But right now, he was hovering awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot as he fiddled with his sleeves. Clearly something was bothering him, which set off Tony's paternal instincts.

"Did something happen? Are you hurt?" The mechanic left his chair spinning in his haste to get to Peter. But before he could fully go into 'protective irondad mode' - as Clint had dubbed it - Peter stopped him.

"I'm fine dad." He playfully shoved his dad's hands away before any poking or prodding could take place. "I just…" He bit his lip, his cheeks turning red. "I uh… I need some advice."

"Oh. Well you've come to the right guy." Tony clapped his hands together. "What can I help ya with? An annoying investor for Stark Industries, Sam and frosty two point O being idiots, some new science at school?"

"Uh it's actually… I need help with-with um… girls."

"Oh." Tony grinned. "Finally ready to admit your feelings for that scary MJ character?"

"Wha- I how did you-" Peter sputtered.

"Kid, Pete," Tony cut him off before he could embarrass himself more. In truth he thought Peter was even more adorable when he got flustered, "it's like… super obvious."

"It is?" Peter squeaked.

"Only to me," he was quick to reassure, resting a placating hand on his son's shoulder, "and the team. But we're your family and are around you the most. I'm sure MJ doesn't know."

"Okay. That-that's good." He furrowed his brow. "But um… how do I get her to like me. I mean she's way out of my league. Like way, way, way out of my league. And I'm asexual. Would that bother her?"

"First off, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. If someone can't accept you for who you are then they aren't worth your time. You drop their sorry ass." Peter rolled his eyes good-naturedly but didn't argue. "Second, sex is the most superficial aspect of a relationship. A stereotypical relationship anyway. Lots of people just date because of their appearance and sex appeal; you take sex out of the equation and most relationships are meaningless."

"Oh, yeah I guess I never… I never thought of it that way. People are so interested in what they look like and how popular they are that they don't look at personalities or characteristics of the people they hang with.

Tony smiled proudly. "Exactly kid. And getting a girls attention depends on their personality. Like their interests, hobbies, whatever grabs their attention."

"Well, MJ is really smart but more with politics, literature and social aspects rather than sc-science. She's very honest and sarcastic and doesn't take anyone's crap. But she's reserved and kinda quiet, like she's scoping everything out. She also likes to read; a lot. Darker literature too. The more depressing the better. Oh and did I mention she's p-pretty? Her eyes are so dark but in a captivating way. And her hair is so curly but always smells so good, like vanilla. I guess it's her shampoo. And she-" His eyes took on a new light the more he talked about MJ. A slight blush crept onto his cheeks when he realized he'd gone off on a tangent and Tony was just standing there, patiently waiting.

"Sounds like you really care about her."

"Yeah I do." No stuttering that time.

"Eye contact. Look at her when she's talking so she knows you're actually listening. Repeat back what she's told you. That tells her you were actually paying attention. Talk about things she likes to talk about. That shows her that you're interested in what she likes. Try to have a meaningful conversation. Not stupid small talk about the weather or pointless things like that; but a real conversation. You said she likes to read and is into the more depressing aspect of things. So ask her about her favorite book, why our culture is formed around social class and looks, how prejudice transforms the workplace. Grab her attention."

"Okay." He finished jotting down his last note on a sticky pad appeared to contain only scribbles that Tony knew only his genius son could understand. Anyone else would be lost. "Eye contact, listen to her and have meaningful conversations. Got it. Thanks dad." He gave his dad a quick squeeze - lifting him off the ground slightly - before rushing out of the lab with a skip in his step.

…..

"So how are things going?" Pepper asked, situating herself in Tony's office. She smirked as the billionaire read through a file that was at least two inches thick. "You seem to be having fun."

"I'd have even more fun if you didn't keep sending me all this crap. Paperwork is sickening."

"If you took one day out of the week and filed through everything it wouldn't be so bad."

Tony just rolled his eyes and collapsed back onto his plush office chair. It was too early in the morning for paperwork. Actually, it was always too early for paperwork.

"But how are you doing? Not the company, I know it's doing fine. What about Tony?"

"I'm… great. I'm really doing great." His statement and smile was genuine. He hadn't felt so at peace in years and it truly was the best feeling. "The team is getting along well, there haven't been any avenger level threats in two weeks and Peter's fully adjusted. I really feel happy."

"I'm so glad for you Tony." Pepper reaches across the desk and squeezed her friend's hand, her smile just as genuine. "I really am. You deserve this."

He squeezed her hand back, his eyes flicking to her face then back to the floor. "How are you and that blond dude… um Mitch? You've been together for six months now?"

"Its Michael. And it's been seven months." She rolled her eyes playfully. "We're good. No where near living together, but definitely soon. He's a great guy."

"I'm glad you could find someone," he sighed, "and I'm sorry that person wasn't me. But it wasn't right. We just aren't ."

"The right people for each other. I know Tony." She chuckled and gently squeezed his hand. "We did the right thing."

"I know Pep, thank you for understanding."

The atmosphere wasn't awkward, as one might have expected it to be. The agreement had been mutual and for the benefit of them both. They were no longer lovers but old friends. And that's all they really needed.

…

Tony left his office around five - having decided that six hours of signing, filing and mailing paperwork was enough. He could do the rest in the privacy of his lab where he was much more comfortable.

Pepper and Happy, along with most of the S.I employees had finished up hours ago, as it was a Friday which meant work ended at twelve instead of nine at night. It also meant family movie night with the team and most importantly Peter.

"Friday, remind me to go through the biotech files later." He stepped into the avengers private elevator.

"Of course Boss."

"And how'd Peter's meeting go with the NYPD? Did everyone show up?"

"He did very well." She sounded very proud for being an A.I. "Colonel Rhodes went with him per your request."

"Good, that's good."

The elevator opened up on the Penthouse floor. It was clean, quiet and private; things the mechanic definitely needed right now. Before going back to his room he stopped at Peters door. He barely had the chance to knock before he was ambushed by a spider teen.

"Hi dad." Peter nuzzled into Tony's silk shirt, "how was your day?"

"If doing boring old paperwork counts as getting stuff done," he held Peter against his chest, one hand immediately going to pet the kid's curls, "then I'd say my day went pretty well. How'd that meeting go? Captain 'my shit don't stink' and inspector 'I'm an imbecile' didn't give you any problems did he?"

Peter snorted. "No. Captain Watts and inspector Glen were actually well behaved today. " He pulled a pair of sweats and a science pun t-shirt from his closet as he recapped the meeting.

"Because you called them both out." Friday added. "Colonel Rhodes found it very amusing."

"Friday!"

"You got that on tape right?" Tony ignored his sons glare, a shit eating grin on his face.

"Of course. Both Colonel Rhodes and Peter wore earpieces as a standard precaution. I also have access to every precinct in New York."

Tony huffed out a laugh. "I have got to see that footage. Later though," he turned back to Peter - who was trying to look intimidating but failing miserably, "tell me how everything else went."

"Lieutenant Cora all the way up through chief Bogo were there, even a few detectives. And they all loved the idea of our drones." His face lit up in excitement. "Less police casualties while tracking and taking in criminals or scoping out suspects. Chief Bogo really appreciated that the drones are solar powered. They already agreed to invest. All in all I think it went well."

"That's awesome Pete!" The two high fived. "I knew you could handle it. Now change and meet in the lounge. It's movie night." He ruffled the teens hair once more before heading off to his own room.


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up to a splitting headache is not fun. Waking up to a splitting headache, aching jaw and leaking fangs is definitely not fun. But that's what Peter woke up to.

"Oh come on." He groaned, carefully standing up and moving towards the bathroom.

He pulled a small plastic cup from under the sink and held it below his fangs as he gently pressed down on the two swollen glands on the roof of his mouth. Venom poured from his fangs and into the cup, filling it about half way with the clear liquid before coming to a stop. Peter set the cup aside - he'd give it to Bruce later - and splashed some cold water on his face.

"Friday, can you turn the lights down please."

"Of course Peter." Immediately the lights dimmed to their lowest setting.

Peter sighed with relief, the pounding in his head dimming along with the lights, but the pain in his jaw remained. He didn't have a clue as to why his jaw was aching so much. He didn't grind his teeth, or chew gum so that was out.

"Boss wants me to inform you that breakfast is ready and to come down whenever you are ready."

"Oh, can you tell dadI'll be down in like, ten minutes." He rubbed the side of his face. The headache definitely transforming into a migraine.

"Of course."

"Thanks Fri. You're the best."

You could almost hear the smile in her voice. "It is no problem Peter."

….

"Morning kid!" Clint greeted as he walked in.

Usually Clint's up-beat attitude and loud personality wasn't a problem for Peter. He loved the man's joking nature and positive attitude. But today, his loud greeting only aggravated him. He gave a curt nod and quickly moved out into the lounge where it was less populated.

"Morning son." Steve looked over his newspaper to see Peter collapse onto the couch. "Rough night?" A soft groan was all he got in response which prompted him to set his paper aside and make sure his nephew was okay.

Peter leaned into Steve's hand that was pressed against his temple, causing the older hero to chuckle. "You don't feel warm."

"Migraine." He ground out, turning himself so he was facing the back of the couch. He didn't want to be rude but the light was making things worse.

A loud growl had the boy clutching his stomach, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"I'll get you something to eat." Steve got up to grab some food but a small hand pulled him back. "You need to eat something Peter. I know what it's like when I don't eat enough. I can't imagine what it's like for you." Peter shook his head and immediately regretted it, his vision swimming. "Come on," Steve goaded, "how 'bout some juice or something?

"M'kay"

"Good kid." The super soldier rushed off to grab something from the kitchen.

"Morning spider child." Loki greeted softly before taking a seat on the chair near Peter's head.

"Hi uncle Loki."

Steve came back with glass of the bright orange liquid in hand. He waited for peter to sit up before handing it to him.

You excited to see your friend today?"

"Thanks uncle Steve." Peter took the cool glass and sipped gingerly. He didn't notice the proud look on Steve's face when he called him uncle Steve. "And yeah, it'll be nice to just hang out'n stuff."

He took a few more sips before setting the drink on the coffee table and laid back down, having decided to take a nap and sleep off the pain. His dad probably wouldn't need him in the lab this early and there was nothing he needed to do for S.I at the moment, so a nap couldn't hurt.

Bucky, Sam, Clint and Steve ventured into the living room an hour later. Foregoing their usual routines in favor of checking on their youngest teammate. Everyone disguised their true objective with the excuse that the summer heat made it difficult to go jogging or work out, that there were no missions - or in Clint's case, that his favorite show was on.

Both Tony and Natasha were in a meeting with agent Hill and Rhodey was in Washington on a mission set to last at least another day.

"Okay. Where the hell did the cat come from?"

All eyes went to Peter - who was still sleeping soundly - a small black cat resting on his chest.

"It's called a kitten moron." Bucky slapped Clint up-side the head. "Get it right."

"Hmph." Clint proceeded to pout.

"Where'd it come from." Steve reached out to pet the little fur ball, his fingers softly brushed its fur.

Claws caught Steve's hand before he could pull it back. Blood immediately began dripping from the cuts. "Holy shi-" he stumbled backwards as the cat jumped down and began to grow in size.

Morphing from a domestic kitten to a black panther then into a black and white saber tooth tiger. Towering over the group it bared its fangs, showing off it's massive canines. It's eyes glowed green.

"Get back!" Bucky pulled a knife from somewhere on his person and aimed it at the prehistoric cat's face; not the least bit intimidated with it being so close to his nephew.

"Mhm." Peter rolled over and yawned. He observed the scene though heavy, half lidded eyes. "S'okay." He murmured - seemingly to the animal - as he lightly stroked the big cats leg.

The large feline crouched down and nuzzled Peter's face with its wet nose, eliciting a small giggle from the boy. The saber tooth purred contentedly and laid back down with its head rested on the couch. Peter continued to pet it, the quiet, yet powerful purring lulled him back to sleep.

….

"Dude, are you okay?"

"What?" Peter jolted, his friend's voice sending a stabbing pain through his temple. He'd been getting awful headaches this past week. They came and went rather quickly, but this one had lingered for over three hours now. It was beginning to feel like the migraines that usually accompanied sensory overload. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You keep rubbing your forehead and wincing." Ned kept his voice to a whisper, knowing from experience that if Peter was experiencing a sensory overload - which he did quite often - or the beginning of one, it was best to make as little noise as possible. "Do you want some Advil or something?" He asked in hopes of giving his friend some relief.

"That won't do anything," he rubbed at his eyes, "just got a headache. No big deal."

"If you're in pain then it is a big deal." Ned huffed. He set his LEGO pieces aside and crossed his chubby arms. His attempt at looking and sounding stern wasn't so intimidating as much as it was comedic.

Peter couldn't help but smile at his friends attempt and genuine concern. "Thanks Ned, really." He sat back so he was leaning against his bed, the soft cushions felt like heaven to his throbbing head. "But I'm fine. It'll pass."

"Come on man, Dr. Banner is like, three floors down! He could totally help you. Or that Dr. Cho lady you've told me about. She seems nice."

"You just wanna see uncle Bruce." Peter smirked, huffing a laugh when his friend faltered.

"No. Th-That's not true."

"You suck at lying dude."

"How… how can-"

"One," Peter held up his index finger to count, "I can hear your heartbeat and smell the different chemicals your body produces depending on what you're feeling, doing or saying. I'm literally a walking lie detector. Two," he held up his middle finger, "I've known you since we were what… six, seven? I know you man." He stood then pulled his large friend up with ease.

"So we are going to see Dr. Banner?" Ned asked in a hopeful tone.

"Yes." Peter rolled his eyes. "But only if you beat me to his floor." With that, he did a backflip off of the loft where he slept and landed gracefully in the center of his room. He stuck his tongue out at a gobsmacked Ned before darting off down the hall.

"No fair." Ned whined, and began climbing down the ladder that allowed the human avengers to climb up to Peter's secluded and preferred - since it was up high - sleeping space.

"I would suggest increasing your speed Mr. Leeds." Friday's amused voice advised. "Dr. Banner has agreed to meet with you and requests you both meet him in the medical wing. Peter is waiting for you at the elevator."

"Of course he is." He could've sworn Friday chuckled.

…

"My wisdom teeth?" Peter exclaimed. "What do my wisdom teeth have to do with anything?"

"Your mouth is small, so these new teeth are putting pressure on your jaw, which then puts pressure on your skull." Bruce took his glasses off and tucked them safely in the front pocket of his lab coat. He began examining the ex-rays of Peter's mouth. "You've been getting headaches the past couple of days because your wisdom teeth are coming in."

Ned was just happy to sit and watch, his eyes bulging as he took in the high tech equipment and the fact that he was in the same room as Bruce Banner.

"Could they also be affecting my fangs." The vigilante swung his legs over the side of the examination table. "They're dripping more venom than normal. I have to drain them everyday instead of every other."

"What!" Ned's scream startled Bruce, causing him to jump back into the wall which made Peter laugh. "You-you have fangs! That's… so freaking cool!" He was practically vibrating with excitement, his voice cracking on every other word. "Since when have you had fangs?"

"Almost my whole life." He pushed Ned back when he got too close to his personal bubble. Ned often forgot the concept of personal space when he was overly excited or geeking out about something. "See." Peter let his fangs poke down through his gums. They were nearly two inches long and sat right in between his canines and incisors.

Ned gaped at the glistening fangs sticking out of his best friend's mouth; fear, fascination and wonder alighting within his eyes. He positively lost it when a clear liquid began dripping from the hollow yet incredibly strong teeth.

"What's that! They're leaking… stuff!"

"Chill Ned. It's just venom." Peter shrugged and wiped the venom from his chin before retracting his fangs so they were no longer visible.

"It doesn't hurt you does it?"

"No. I'm immune to it, but it paralyzes anyone else."

"What. You can paralyze people?" He was back to geeking out. "Have you ever you know… bitten someone." It sounded like he wanted to know the answer but was afraid to know at the same time.

"Only a few times. But that was before I started going out as Spider-Man. Now uncle Bruce and I have created little darts that contain my venom. They're like mini tranquilizers that I can shoot." He pulled one of his x-rays from the table and examined it. His wisdom teeth were halfway up but looked slightly crooked. "Please don't tell me these need to come out."

Bruce gave him a pitiful look. "I'm not gonna lie to you, they look like they're becoming impacted. So we either pull them out now or cut them out later."

"Oh come on." Peter began to pace, tugging his hair as he panicked. "Are you sure? I mean… they might straighten out, or maybe-"

"They've got to come out Pete. They're causing problems." He said, not unkindly. "Dr. Cho can help, it won't take more than twenty minutes-"

"Twenty minutes! You expect me to sit still for twenty freaking minutes while you yank my stinking teeth out? No way."

"Wouldn't you be given morphine?" Ned asked. He lightly tugged on Peter's sleeve to hopefully calm him.

"Peter's metabolism doesn't allow any sedatives or medicine to work. He burns through everything in minutes." Bruce thought for a minute before continuing, not keen on upsetting his nephew anymore than he already had. "I'll talk to Shuri. She might be able to come up with something. Don't worry Pete," he squeezed the teens shoulder, "we'll do the best we can."

Peter sighed, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I know uncle Bruce, thanks."

…..

The two friends sat at the kitchen island, neither of them wanted to build legos right now.

"Sorry about your teeth man. That really sucks." Ned watched Peter fiddle with the straw of his lemonade he was nursing. His stomach growled in want, but every time he moved his jaw a sharp pain jolted through his head. No way he'd be able to eat anything.

"S'okay." He shrugged, not really into making conversation.

"How's it going with MJ? You talk to her yet?"

Peter shook his head miserably. He'd texted his only other friend a few times, even spoke with her on the phone once; but whenever he came close to revealing his true feelings he always seemed to lose his nerve. Now with his fangs acting up, there was no way he could talk to her. She didn't know he was Spider-Man and if keeping MJ in the dark meant keeping her safe, then so be it.


	4. Chapter 4

"Toss me a flathead screwdriver, would ya Pete?" Tony held out his palm expectantly. A minute passed and no screwdriver was put into his hand. There was no clinking or clanging that indicated someone was searching through the numerous tools around the shop. "Pete?"

The billionaire slid out from under his shining new Bentley and looked around for his assistant - who he could've sworn was sitting right behind him five minutes ago. A quick sweep of the garage and he came up empty.

"Friday," he sighed, "where'd my baby spider go?"

"He is currently in his room. Should I have him come down?"

"No I'll go- wait, why did he go to his room And why didn't you say anything?" He was already in the elevator when Friday responded.

"Mini Boss had requested I not disturb you." Tony rolled his eyes at that. "As to why he left so suddenly," she paused, as if collecting her thoughts, "I am unsure. It is possible that he had a headache."

"He's been getting them a lot lately."

Tony tapped his foot impatiently, the elevator not going fast enough for his liking. Upon reaching their shared penthouse floor he bypassed the kitchen and living rooms for Peter's. He stopped short of Peter's room

"Hey bud. You in here?" Knowing Peter could be experiencing sensory overload he kept his voice low. He knocked three times and called, "I'm coming in… okay."

The room was empty. Peter's desk in the corner was littered with notes and equations - some of which he could barely read. The loveseat and chairs were covered in legos, even the little coffee table had little figures and colorful blocks stacked on top. The loft was also void of the arachnid; bed unmade, laptop partially covered by the blankets with more notes and papers strewn about. Tony's knees popped as he made his way back down the ladder. His joints would be hating him later.

A soft groan coming from the bathroom caught his attention. He didn't open the door out of respect for his son's privacy but kept his hand on the doorknob.

"Bud, you okay? Friday said your head hurt." The lack of a response was alarming to say the least and set the billionaire's paternal instincts on fire. "I'm gonna come in… okay."

Slowly - so as not to accidentally hit Peter - he opened the door and was surprised to see Peter sitting beside the bathtub with his chin resting on the rim. He's wearing the t-shirt and jeans from earlier, but his hoodie was discarded in the corner.

"Dad." Peter turned to face the mechanic. His complexion paler than normal and his fangs protruded from his mouth, clear venom dripping down his chin.

"I'm here kiddo." Tony knelt down and pulled his kid against his chest, allowing the teen to lean all of his weight against his dad's sturdy chest. He hugged Peter tighter when he felt his thin frame trembling. "What's going on Friday?" He went right to Friday since Peter's m.o was to suffer in silence for the sake of others. He would brush this off and Tony would be left clueless.

"Due his wisdom teeth coming in, Peter has been experiencing headaches, sensory overload, jaw pain and excessive venom leakage."

Peter coward under his father's gaze. "And you neglected to tell me this, why?" He wiped the venom from Peter's chin and handed him a cup to catch the dripping liquid. "Well?"

"Didn't wanna bother you."

"How many times must I tell you? You are not a bother to me. You never have been and you never will be." Fingers began threading through the curls tickling his cheek. "I want to know what's going on with you. You're my son and I love you."

A slight blush crept onto Peter's cheeks. "Sorry… I just didn't want to worry you."

"I'm your dad. I'm supposed to worry." He placed a kiss to the teen's pale forehead. "Come on, let's go see Bruce." Tony stood as they pulled apart, only moving towards the door when he saw Peter standing up as well. "We'll figure this ou-"

"Dad… I...?" Peter's voice left him as black spots filled his vision. His head felt like it was filled with packing foam and his limbs felt heavy. He was vaguely aware of someone yelling as the floor reached up to meet him.

"Holy shit!" Tony managed to catch him just before his head could hit the tile. Chest constricting, heart beating a mile a minute, he lowered the unconscious teen to the floor. "Peter! Holy sh- Friday, get Bruce up here now!" Peter groaned when his body was repositioned so it was further on Tony's lap.

"Oh my god… holy shit. What-what..."

He continued to stroke Peter's hair and brush a thumb over his cheeks to hopefully speed up his trek to consciousness. Hazel eyes flickered open, locking onto the mechanic's distressed face. Adrenaline gone and relief setting in, Tony began rambling, never once letting go of the boy in his arms.

"Oh thank god. Oh my- you just passed out! I literally had like… three heart attacks just now." He took a deep breath, his entire body still trembling. "You can't do that to me. I'm too old for this shit."

"M'sorry." His head was still swimming but it wasn't hard for him to work out what just happened. "M'sorry dad." He tried to push himself up, his arms giving out almost immediately.

"Woah, woah, woah. Let me help." It took no effort to lift Peter. Cradling him, like one would an infant, he carried Peter to the loveseat and carefully - after pushing all the legos off - laid him down.

"I'm here." Bruce stumbled over to the two, panting heavily from his run. "I'm here."

"He just passed out." Tony gestured to a semiconscious Peter. "I don't know what happened. I was talking to him and the next thing I know he's about to kiss the floor. I caught him though, thankfully. Talk about giving someone a heart attack. Is he sick or is something else going on? Come on Bruce you gotta do something I-"

A beep cut the mechanic's frantic rambling short. Bruce held up a glucose tester to show him. "It's just his blood sugar Tony. It's incredibly low. But he's not ill or anything like that."

"Okay, okay…" He took a deep breath, held it then exhaled. "He just needs to eat then?"

Bruce nodded and knelt in front of his nephew,his hand a reassuring weight on the teen's chest. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Lunch… yesterday."

"What!" Tony shouted. "You can not skip meals. It's impossible for you to get the minimal amount of calories you need in a day. Even on a good day! You are literally starving! What were you thinking-"

"Tony." Bruce squeezed his friend's arm in reassurance. "Why don't you get Peter something to eat. Something soft, ice cream maybe? And an ice pack. I'll stay here with him."

"Yeah, okay." He looked down guiltily. Yelling at Peter wouldn't do a damn thing but make the poor kid feel even worse. Not to mention damaging his practically nonexistent self esteem. He was quick to apologize. "Sorry bud. I shouldn't have snapped at you. This isn't your fault."

"It's fine dad." He wrapped an arm around his cramping stomach. "I'm sorry I left. I thought it'd pass but…"

"It's not a problem Underoos. Be right back."

Peter relaxed further into the cushions once his dad had left - no longer worried about hiding his pain. His stomach growled loudly, eliciting a groan from the boy as it cramped painfully.

"You lost weight." Bruce mentioned, not unkindly. Peter only grunted in response. "I know you don't want to hear this… but those teeth need to come out. You can afford to lose weight and you shouldn't be in pain all the time."

The young hero shook his head stubbornly, his eyes firmly fixed on the wall.

"Okay, here we go," Tony came back in with two tub of Rocky road ice cream, a box of randomly assorted cookies and an entire pack of chocolate pudding cups. He set everything on the table, pointed to Peter then the food. "Eat."

It took no more prompting to get Peter to eat. Despite his aching jaw and the pressure on his fangs, he dug in hungrily. Only after he'd eaten all the pudding and was half way into the ice cream did Tony feel comfortable continuing.

"So, these wisdom teeth," he looked to Bruce, "they obviously need to come out."

"No 'ey 'on't." Peter squeaked, mouth full of delicious ice cream.

"Yes," Bruce nodded to the mechanic, "they need to come out as soon as possible."

"Okay." Tony clapped his hands together. "Friday, contact Helen. I want her here as soon as possible."

"No! Dad please don't make me get my teeth pulled." The arachnid's eyes grew wide. "That's going to hurt so freaking bad!"

"Dr. Cho has been notified and will arrive tomorrow at one." Friday informed her creator. "I sent her all the information Dr. Banner has collected."

Peter jumped up onto the ceiling. The childish part of him believed that if no one could reach him he wouldn't have to get his teeth yanked out.

"Get off of the ceiling Peter." Tony's voice went an octave lower, his tone gentle yet stern. His dad voice. "Come down now." He pointed to the floor, foot tapping impatiently.

Peter shook his head. "Please dad. It's going to hurt so bad."

Tony's resolve almost broke at the sight of his son's watering eyes and quivering lip. But getting those teeth out was necessary to keep Peter healthy.

"I know bud. And I'm sorry, I really truly am. It's gonna hurt but you'll feel so much better once they're out."

"I-I know. It's just… I get tired of getting hurt then having to go through more pain in order to get better. It sucks."

"I-I won't pretend that I understand how you feel. Going through stitches, cleaning injuries… but with no medicine. I know it sucks. But we don't want you to be hurting." Bruce moved to stand beside Tony so he was below Peter. "And if getting your teeth pulled will help you in the long run… then I think it's worth doing."

"Couldn't 'ave said it better myself." He smiled sadly. "Now will you please come down."

Peter didn't move but had a concentrated look on his face. He contemplated what his uncle and dad had said, mulling the facts over; knowing they were right.

"Okay." He dropped back down. "I'll do it."


	5. Chapter 5

"Peter. Can you open your eyes for me?" Dr. Cho gently nudged the drowsy teen's shoulder.

"They 're ope'." The gauze distorted his words.

His response caused the surrounding heroes to laugh. Their happy noises made Peter giggle. He rolled over in the hospital bed - dopey smile on his face. His movements caused the blanket and pillow to fall, but the vigilante didn't even notice.

Opening his eyes - for real this time - he realized all of the avengers were in his room. "The a'enge's!" He pointed to Bucky, "and Jesus!"

"Oh my god." Bucky facepalmed. Sam and Clint were already mocking him - Bucky's choice of words only fueled the fire.

"How much of that stuff did you give him?" Tony asked, chuckling at how chipmunk-like his son looked with his swollen cheeks.

"Five doses." Helen gestured to the vial and syringes on the table nearby. "Even though I created the sedative with Peter's genetics in mind, it still won't last long in his system and it doesn't do much for pain." She huffed in frustration. "I was lucky I could even get one to work."

"We're just glad you did. So thank you." Natasha sat down on the bed and began petting her nephew's hair. "Even if it doesn't last long… it's better than nothing."

"It's no problem." Helen smiled. "I care about Peter, very much so." She looked from the awe struck arachnid to Tony. "The sedative is safe for him, so you should be able to use as much as you need. Three doses kept him out for about twenty minutes. For the next time you need to use them, that is."

"Yeah. There's no If but When, when it comes to Peter getting into trouble." The billionaire sat opposite Natasha, smiling down at his boy. "How ya feeling bud?"

Peter just continued to stare up at him with a dopey smile on his face, big eyes shining.

"Does your mouth hurt?"

"M'yeah. But it's okay."

"And why's that?"

"Because you're iron man!" He threw his arms around the billionaire's neck and squeezed tightly. "You gonna keep m' safe."

"I…" his eyes took on a misty look and he tugged Peter onto his lap, Natasha's hand still playing with his curls, "I always will. No matter what."


End file.
